Murder at Mayhem Manor
by Seredipity
Summary: It was supposed to be fun. Buffy and Co. head to Mayhem Manor for a murder mystery weekend. Intro Spike and his buds. What happens when the jokes stop and the murders become real and unscripted?
1. Default Chapter

          "What station made you a winner today?" The cheesy voice on the radio asked. 

          "Club 99.5!" was the reply, accompanied by a high-pitched scream.

          Twenty-one year old Buffy Summers hung up the phone and twirled around in her kitchen.  Her long blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight, matching the sparkle in her hazel eyes.  Life, she determined, could get no better. 

          "Willow, get your ass down here right now!" she screamed at an eardrum shattering volume. 

          Willow Rosenberg, roommate and best friend extraordinaire, stumbled down the stairs and ran into the kitchen so fast that she slid on the floor and barked her shin against the island.  Her vibrant red hair flew around her as her wild green eyes took in the surroundings.  In her hands was a baseball bat.  "What is it?  Just give me a clear shot, I'll kill it."

          Buffy laughed and shook her head.  "Not that big of emergency, sorry Wills.  But guess what.   No wait, don't guess, you'll never guess, not in million years, not in a gazillion years, not in…well you'll never guess what just happened."

          Willow giggled and sat down to rub her shin.  "So, am I guessing or not?" 

          Buffy shook her head.  "I am the lucky phone-in winner of the Club 99.5 radio contest!" she squealed, jumping up and down. 

          Willow squealed as well and jumped up to hug Buffy.  The two best friends were still squealing and hugging and jumping when the third roommate, Anya Jenkins walked in. 

          "What are we celebrating," she asked as she got a soda from the refrigerator.  "Did Buffy finally dump Riley for a better orgasm buddy?"

          Buffy rolled her eyes.  "No, Anya.  But thanks for asking.  Actually, I just won a contest on the radio."

          Anya shrugged.  If Buffy wanted to continue unfulfilled, that was her problem.  "What did you win?"

          Willow stopped jumping.  "Yeah Buffy, what did you win?"

          Anya looked at her.  "You didn't know?"

          Willow shrugged.  "Well, there was squealing, and jumping and I sorta just went with the flow."

          Anya looked at her.  "Willow, you are perhaps one of the weirdest creatures I've ever known."

          Willow rolled her eyes.  "Whatever you say, Mrs. Bigmouth." 

          "And what do you mean by that?" came Anya's sharp reply. 

          Before the hair-pulling and bitch-slapping started, Buffy interrupted them both.  "In case you two wanted to know, my prize was four tickets to the Mayhem Mansion murder mystery weekend.  It's this huge mansion, and someone pretends to die, and we all try to figure out who did it."

          Willow squealed again.  "How fun!  I've always wanted to go to one of those places."

          Anya ground her teeth.  "If you squeal one more time, I'm not responsible for my maiming actions."

          Buffy rolled her eyes.  "Glad to know you guys are so happy for me.  And yes, thank you Willow for assuming, I was going to ask both of you to go with me."

          Willow matched her hair.  "Oh, Buffy.  I didn't mean to jump in like that.  I was just saying…well…"

          Anya rolled her eyes.  "She just said we were invited.  Stop acting like a nitwit.  And might I say, Buffy, that I am also very excited.  As a matter of fact, I am very free now, as my orgasm buddy and I just had a parting of the ways.  Obviously, my fiscal mind was too much for him.  And his blatant lack of ambition, why, how is a capitalist supposed to thrive in this day and age if he won't get out of bed.  Not that I didn't enjoy his penis very much…."

          Buffy and Willow tuned Anya out.  Once she started on her rants, it was best just to ignore her and wait for her to run out of steam. 

          "…curved a little at the end, and what's up with that?" Anya paused.  "What?"

          Buffy coughed a little to cover up a laugh.  "Nothing.  Anyway, I was wondering if either of you two had any ideas on who I should invite as my fourth.  Obviously Riley's out, unless I want Anya to go vengeance demon on him.  I was thinking about maybe taking Mom."

          Willow nodded and Anya frowned.  "What?" Buffy asked.

          "I think that Joyce would have a wonderful time," Willow said. 

          "Are you sure this is something she'll like?" Anya asked at the same time. 

          Buffy shrugged.  "I think she'll enjoy it.  We haven't had much bonding time since I started school again.  It'll be good for her to actually go out and leave the gallery for once."

          Willow nodded again, looking very much like a bobble doll.  "Uh-huh, she'll have a good time.  Oh, this is going to be so much fun."  She stopped for a minute, her face stricken.  "Ohmigod, I better go make sure that I don't have any homework to do.  I would just die if I had some and forgot about it."  She rushed back upstairs. 

          Buffy laughed.  Some things would never change.  She'd met Willow on her first day of high school.  They were both timed little freshmen, alphabetically seated next to one another.  Friendship bloomed and it lasted until this very day.  Anya Jenkins moved to Sunnydale as a junior, and the three girls formed a fast friendship that would last until college.  A slight falling out occurred and they went separate ways, but they eventually ended up together at Sunnydale University.  Roommates and best friends, tiffs and fights occurred, but they didn't affect the strong friendship the three women shared. 

          Anya yawned.  "Well, if we're going away for a weekend, I better go get some beauty sleep in."

          Buffy laughed.  "Anya, it's Wednesday."

          Anya nodded sagely.  "Well yes, but it takes a lot to look this damn good."

          She smiled and Buffy laughed.  It was going to be a good weekend. 

A/N: okay, it's my new story.  Not too sure of it yet, let me know what you think.  Also, I gain no profit from these characters etc….just using them for my own twisted ends.  Also, I have an lj now, so so I'll post when I update there: serendipity11     


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

          William Giles was stunned.  "Da!  Do you actually think this sounds like fun?  What will everyone say?"

          Rupert Giles rolled his eyes at his son.  "They'll say 'thank you Mr. Giles' as they have a tad more respect than you."

          Spike swore.  Of all the bloody luck.  First his father forces him to move to Podunkville CA also known as Sunnydale.  _I'll only pay tuition if you come to Sunnydale.  Enough partying, you want to party, you pay your own way.  _It was enough to make Spike's blood boil.

          "This is not a birthday present to a man.  This is bloody punishment.  C'mon da, do I really have to go?" Spike whined. 

          Rupert sighed.  He tried so hard to connect with his son, but truthfully, he was at a loss.  After Jenny died, he and William were both lost.  Then William began to change.  Gone was the intelligent, compassionate William and in his place was cocky arrogant Spike.  It made Rupert want to grind his teeth and polish his glasses.  The final straw came when Rupert received a letter from the Dean of his son's college.  Spike was failing out.  Rupert bullied his son into coming to Sunnydale, a town he discovered while looking for a new job.  It was time to put Jenny behind them, god rest her beautiful soul.

          He thought that taking a weekend together would help repair some tears they both put into the relationship.  Apparently, he was wrong. 

          Spike, meanwhile, was still ranting about the injustice of it all.  "I mean, come on.  This is so lame.  It was Professor Plum in the Hall with the Candlestick."

          Rupert's temper snapped.  "Fine.  If you don't want to go, you ungrateful prat, then don't.  I, however, plan on attending and trying to enjoy myself for once."

          Spike mouth gaped open.  His father hadn't spoken to him like that in a long time.  Maybe he shouldn't have complained so loudly or profusely, it looks like his da really wanted to go. 

          "Okay, fine," he conceded.  "It could be fun.  Can Xander go?"

          Rupert smiled.  Alexander Harris was the one good influence on his son.  "I suppose Xander can come.  Anyone else?"

          Spike thought about it.  "Not that I can think of."

          Rupert nodded.  "I shall make arrangements."

          Spike rolled his eyes.  Sometimes his father talked like he lived in the Middle Ages. 

          "I'll call Xander and see if he's free.  This thing lasts all weekend?" Spike asked.

          Rupert nodded.  "We arrive Friday morning and leave Sunday afternoon.  Friday night is the Introduction Ball.  We meet the other guests and get briefed on the rules.  Then, the game begins.  We have Saturday and Sunday to figure out whodunit and the Sunday night, we leave."

          Spike nodded.  Truthfully, it kinda sounded like fun.  He always had a quick mind and he loved solving puzzles.  It was one of the few Williamisms he couldn't get rid of.  That, and his passion for writing.  Since these were decidedly "uncool" things, he tried to ignore them as much a possible. 

          "Xander, what's up?" Spike asked, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear. 

          They conferred for a few moments and Spike face broke into a grin.  "Great man, glad you could come.  We'll pick you up on Thursday night.  We're driving down the night before and staying at some motel next to the manor."

          Spike hung the phone up and turned to his father with a thumbs-up.  "All's go with the Xan-man."

          Rupert smiled.  "Glad to hear it.  If you can think of anyone else, let me know.  I have one more ticket.  It was a package deal."

          Spike nodded.  The two men parted way.  Rupert wandered outside to take in the new town.  He had been here for about six months and had yet to actually walk it and see where the various cultural centers were.  Old habits were hard to shake. 

          Spike, meanwhile, headed back up to his room.  Boxes were everywhere, some opened, some not.  He didn't have enough money for his own place yet, so staying with da was the only option.  With a smile worthy of Beelzebub himself, Spike dialed Xander again.  Fifteen minutes later, he had himself an unpacking buddy. 

          Spike met Xander the very first day he set foot in Sunnydale six months ago.  He literally ran into the tall brunette in the registration building on the Sunnydale University campus.  The young carpenter with an easy grin and an easier attitude took pity on him and they ended up registering for classes together.  It was eerie how much they had in common, but also how strikingly different they were.  Spike was lithe and blonde while Xander had the rough hewn body of a laborer.  Both detested school, both loved good punk rock and both had more ambition than sense.  Instant friendship struck.

          Spike soon realized that Xander's easy attitude hid the heart and soul of a warrior.  One night, he stopped by the Harris house only to be accosted by a bloody and bruised Xander and a raging Mr. Harris.  Seems Xander was trying to get his mom to leave when Mr. Harris struck out with a full bottle of JD. 

          Spike was incensed.  Screaming obscenities that few people had ever heard before, he raised his fists and tore into Mr. Harris with the abandonment of a banshee.  Both boys arrived on the Giles doorstep very much worse for the wear.  Rupert never asked any questions, he wrapped them both in gauze and sent them to Spike's room drugged with painkillers.  The next morning, the boys were floored to hear that a very beaten Mr. Harris was found in front of the police station, handcuffed to a bench and babbling about "Ripper".  Spike never asked, Rupert never told.

          Mrs. Harris didn't leave, and instead asked Xander to please stop coming home.  It broke his heart, but Xander said goodbye to his parents, and became a temporary member of the Giles clan.  Although Rupert offered many times, Xander refused the use of the house.  Instead, he moved into a small apartment close to the college.  Once Spike scraped together enough money, the two planned on becoming roommates. 

          Xander didn't bother knocking.  He walked in and immediately headed for the Giles refrigerator.  Once he loaded up on soda and leftovers, he headed upstairs to Spike's room. 

          "Hey loser, need some muscle?" Xander asked with a grin.

          Spike rolled his eyes.  "No, I've got muscle.  What I need is a mule to cart around my shit."

          Xander laughed and handed Spike a soda.  They drank in companionable silence. 

          Xander burped.  "So, when do we start?"

          Spike laughed and punched him in the shoulder.  "Right now."

            Three hours later, all the boxes were unpacked and the majority of Spike's belongings were put away.  Xander's back ached from the lifting and Spike's shoulder was sore.

          "Jesus Spike, how much shit do you really have?" Xander asked, wiping his brow. 

          "Actually, this is the last of it.  Thanks mate, it would have taken me bloody forever to do this on my own," Spike replied, slumping down next to Xander. 

          "So you've lived here for almost a year and just now decide to unload all your crap?" Xander asked, reaching for a water from Spike's mini-fridge.  The same mini-fridge it took him an hour to muscle into place. 

          Spike half-shrugged.  His shoulder was way to sore to do anything further.  "Well, I've been pulling bits and pieces out, just never wanted to fully unpack.  Was probably hoping that I'd leave this bloody town, but it doesn't look like that's happening."  He took a deep drink of Xander's water. 

          Xander grinned.  Spike liked to bitch and moan, but Xander thought that he might secretly like Sunnydale.  "Don't deny it, Spike.  You don't want to leave because you're hot for my muscles.  It's okay, you're not the only one."

          Spike rolled his eyes.  "Keep thinking that whelp.  Whatever helps you get through the day.  Feel like Bronzing tonight?"

          The Bronze was the one and only club in town.  Xander wasn't big on the club scene, so Spike dragged him out whenever he could.  Xander needed a woman, and Spike was bound and detmined to find him one.  And maybe a bird for himself too, strictly for shagging purposes.  After Drusilla, Spike was leery of relationships. 

          Xander immediately began listing other things he had to do, but Spike was having none of it.  "Don't even try it, whelp.  I know as well as you do that you're not doing a damn thing tonight.  We're going to the Bronze.  And please, no Hawaiian shirts tonight."

          Xander grinned at that.  Last time Spike set him up he showed up to his "dates" house wearing an obnoxiously bright Hawaiian shirt.  His date politely excused herself from dinner with him.  Spike was so pissed he wouldn't speak to him for a few days. 

          "Okay, okay, we bronze tonight.  And I promise, no Hawaiian shirts," Xander said. 

          Spike smiled.  "Cheers mate." He dumped the rest of the water down Xander's back.

          Xander yelled as the cold water hit his skin.  "Spike you asshole!"

          Spike smiled and ran as Xander lunged for him.  "C'mon you wanker, try and catch me."

          Xander laughed as he chased Spike down the stairs.  He tackled him at the base of the stairs and the two boys went flying into the living room.  They wrestled and fought until both were wheezing from exertion, sweat dripping down their bodies.  Neither wanted to admit defeat, so they just sat silently, sucking in air.  

          Spike wiped his brow.  "Not what the hell did you go and start that shit for?"

          Xander rolled his brown eyes.  "Spike you're such a twit."

          Spike smiled.  "A right sexy twit."

          "Make that a stupid twit and you're on the money," Xander replied.  He stood up and helped Spike to his feet.  "Man, you reek."

          Spike sniffed.  He did reek.  "It's manly sweat, drives the birds crazy."

          Xander shook his head.  "Whatever you say Sid.  Me, I'm gonna shower before the nightmare that is Xander in public begins."

          Spike shook his head.  "It won't be that bad.  Be here at 7 or so.  We'll eat and go."

          Xander nodded.  The two boys parted ways. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

          "Willow, hurry up!" Anya's impatient voice called out. 

          Willow rolled her eyes.  "Anya, I haven't even taken a shower yet.  Hold your horses."

          Anya barged into the bathroom.  Willow shrieked and reached for a towel.  "Anya, what the heck are you doing?"

          Anya rolled her eyes.  "Willow, I happen to be a female, just like you.  And being a female, I come with the same prerequisite parts you do.  Now, stop acting like a sissy and help me find my straight iron.  My hair is frizzy and nobody wants to give orgasms to a girl with frizzy hair."

          It was 'girls night out' for the three roommates.  After sweet-talking Joyce into taking the weekend off, Anya decided that a little "girl time out" was just what the friends needed.  Now, here they were, scrambling for clothes and makeup.  And straightening irons, apparently. 

          "Here it is," Anya called out happily. 

          Willow gave her a grumpy look.  "Great, now will you let me take a shower please?"

          Anya rolled her eyes.  "Willow, you really need to loosen up.  Have you been using that vibe…" Willow squeaked with embarrassment and slammed the door in her face. 

          "The shower massager works just as well," Anya called through the door.  She laughed and strolled to her room.  It was so fun to give Willow a hard time. 

          Buffy, meanwhile, was having a clothing SOS.  "I don't have anything to wear," she complained as Anya walked by. 

          Anya walked into Buffy's room.  "Gee, I can't imagine how you would even notice that," she said dryly. 

          Buffy's room looked like her closet exploded.  Clothing was draped over every available surface, chairs, bad, windowsill, and vanity.  Shirts and skirts littered the floor.

          Buffy gave Anya a sheepish look.  "Guess I went a little overboard."

          Anya nodded.  "Maybe just a little.  Lucky for you, I am here to help.  Now, are you striving for 'innocent tramp' or more of an 'I'm a sex-maniac' type of look?  Personally, I think you pull off the 'virgin slut' rather well."

          As Anya foraged though the catastrophe that was Buffy's room, Buffy tried to think of a comeback to Anya's comments.  Sometimes, Anya was a tad too blunt.  Buffy settled with rolling her eyes and smacking Anya on the arm. 

          "Stop being such a bitch," Buffy said. 

          Anya laughed.  "Sorry.  Anyway, I found it, the perfect outfit for you.  Ta-da!"

          She proudly displayed the 'winning outfit' for Buffy's inspection, a knee-length black skirt with red silk overlay and a red open backed shirt.  Strappy black heels completed the outfit. 

          Buffy's eyes lit up.  "Oh!  It's perfect!  Thank you Anya!"

          Previous anger forgotten, Buffy gave Anya a hug.  She grabbed the clothing articles from Anya's hands and ran down the hall to pester Willow out of the bathroom.   

          "Your welcome," Anya called back to her, heading to her own room. 

          Two hours later, the three collegians were ready to hit the club.  Dressed to kill and smelling slightly of an expensive bordello, the girls hailed a cab and headed to the Bronze. 

          Sunnydale's one and only club was wall to wall people.  A deejay stood on stage, spinning out songs that were heavy with throbbing bass and light on lyrical content.  Bodies of all ages, ethnicities and sizes writhed and twisted to the music, a primitive dance to the heathen god of sex and carnal pleasures.   

          When Spike and Xander entered the club, Spike felt the beat flow through his body.  His blood pumped with electricity and adrenaline coursed though him.  Tonight was a night for pleasure.

          Xander didn't feel the beat or the possibilities.  He felt the eyes staring and the uncomfortable feeling that he left without putting on pants.  A subtle swipe confirmed he was wearing pants, but his unease continued.  Xander just wanted to get a drink and hide in the back. 

          The ladies hit the club shortly after the guys arrived.  Anya immediately headed for the dance floor and the "men with their encouraging penis grinding".  Buffy and Willow opted to find a table and get drinks.   

          "What do you want Wills?" Buffy shouted over the noise.

          "Just a coke right now," Willow shouted back. 

          Buffy nodded and headed to the bar for drinks.  She swerved in and out of the crowd, avoiding the groping hands and leering faces.  She finally made it to the bar, only slightly molested. 

          "Whaddya want?" the bartender asked. 

          "Captain and coke, seven and seven and a regular coke," Buffy replied. 

          The bartender nodded and started mixing the drinks.  Buffy grabbed and empty barstool and sat down.  Immediately, she felt a pair of hands sliding up the skin of her back. 

          "Okay mister, you want to keep those hands?" Buffy asked, turning around. 

          Behind her stood a young co-ed, grinning goofily, obviously way past the tipsy stage.  "Hey pretty lady, wanna dance?"

          Buffy smiled her sweetest smile and crooked her finger, bringing the hopeful young man closer.  "Yeah?" he asked with 40-proof breath.

          Buffy grabbed his hand and twisted.  Hard.  "Next time you think about touching someone without permission, I want you to think about this moment.  You got me?"

          The boy nodded vigorously and Buffy released his hand.  He scurried back into the crowd, holding his injured hand close to his body.  Buffy rolled her eyes and turned back to the bar.  The bartender was looking at her with a slightly alarmed expression.  Buffy just shrugged and grabbed the drinks. 

          She turned to head back to Willow when someone behind her knocked her forward.  The coke flew out of her hand and landed directly on the person in front of her. 

          Buffy turned bright red.  "I am so sorry…"

          She was cut off by a tirade of words that could make a sailor blush.  "Bloody fucking hell!  What the fuck do you think you're fucking doing?  Stupid wanker, look at what you did!"

          Spike couldn't believe it.  Some stupid twat spilled coke all over his shirt.  Now it was wet and sticky.  He looked over at the culprit and was met with a pair of magnificent green eyes glaring daggers at him.

          "Excuse me, sir," Buffy said through her clenched teeth, "I would say that I'm very sorry, but that would be a lie."

          Of all the nerve!  Buffy couldn't believe how incredibly rude this jerk was being.  Even if he did have the most amazing blue eyes she'd ever seen.  And those cheekbones and that body….wait a minute, get back on track, Buff.  You're pissed, remember?

          Spike had to hold back the urge to laugh when the blonde spitfire laid into him.  He even forgot about the coke, just watching her chest heave and her eyes snap with anger made him think of wild sex on the closest available surface.

          Spike cleared his throat.  "'M terribly sorry, luv.  Sometimes, my temper gets the best of me.  I'm Spike."

          He held out his hand and after a moment Buffy accepted it.  "Nice to meet you Spike."  With that said, Buffy walked past him and toward her table.  Sure, he had an incredibly hot body and that accent, Buffy thought, but he was also an incredible jerk.

          Spike stood dumbfounded for a moment.  Did he just get the brush off?  That never happened; women didn't just brush him off.  His accent alone was enough to inspire women to rip their clothes off and ride him proudly.  He spun around to catch the blonde and give her a belated piece of his mind, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

          Xander saw the entire encounter between Spike and the blonde girl.  He laughed out loud when the blonde walked away and left Spike standing there with his mouth open and shirt still soaked with soda.  Spike looked mad enough to spit nails, so Xander signaled the bartender for a couple of beers. 

          "Shot down, huh?" Xander asked conversationally, handing Spike a beer. 

          "Stupid bloody bitch.  Spilled her fucking cola on my shirt and then just took off," Spike fumed. 

          Xander smiled at his friend.  "Guess I'm glad you dragged me out tonight."  Spike's ego was as big as the Grand Canyon; besides, Spike deserved it for dragging him out in the first place. 

          While Spike nursed his beer and glowered, Willow and Buffy laughed about it, and at Anya's antics on the dance floor.  

          "So he just started screaming and cussing?" Willow asked. 

          Buffy nodded.  "Yeah, he was all like 'bloody hell' and 'wanker' and stuff.  Very weird."

          Willow giggled.  Anya returned from the dance floor, sweaty and smiling.  "Ah, yes.  The pre-coital phase.  I just love the flirting and other indicators of sexual interest.  Where is my drink?"

          Willow and Buffy shrugged simultaneously.  Anya huffed out an annoyed breath and wandered over to the bar.  She ordered and looked around for a potential dancing partner.  Her eyes lit on a shy young man standing by himself on the wall.  Tall with brown hair and puppy dog eyes, but doesn't look too full of himself.

          Anya took her drink and wandered over to the boy.  "Hi."

          The boy smiled and nodded.  "Uh, h-h-hi."

          Anya smiled at his slight stutter.  Really, he was too cute!

          Willow smiled as she watched Anya stalk down her prey.  That girl was simply predatory when she wanted to be.  Buffy laughed and dragged Willow onto the dance floor.  A sultry song came on, and the two friends began to dance.

          Willow found a dance partner almost as soon as the two friends hit the floor.  The shy young man was a member of a local band that played the Bronze almost every day.  Willow had a crush on him for a long time, so Buffy was more than happy to let Willow go with her new dance partner. 

          It didn't bother Buffy too much to dance by herself.  She closed her eyes and let the beat of the song wash over her.  Her body dipped and twirled sensuously to the music.  She imagined a mystery lover was there with her, holding her and moving with her body.  She ran her hands down her body, pretending they were his.  Her skin glistened with sweat as she moved to the music. 

          Spike couldn't take his eyes off the vision in front of him.  She was glorious, absolutely, positively glorious.  Sex personified.  Before he knew what he was doing, Spike moved onto the dance floor.  His red over-shirt discarded, leaving him in a tight white tee shirt and black jeans. 

          He reached the blonde bombshell and pulled her close to him.  Her eyes snapped open and her mouth moved into an 'o' of surprise.  Spike smiled wickedly, cocking an eyebrow in challenge. 

          Buffy was more than surprised when she felt hands on her body.  Her eyes opened and she was stunned to see the jerk from the bar.  But right when she was going to give him a piece of her mind, he issued the challenge.  And Buffy never backed down from a challenge. 

          Spike was surprised when she didn't break away from him.  And his surprise turned into shock when she wrapped her arms around him and arched her back, driving her body against his. 

          Buffy really didn't know what came over her.  She hadn't been drinking that much, so it couldn't be the alcohol.  The best she could come up with was hormones and lust.  That was okay with her. 

          The song changed, becoming slower and bluesy.  Spike pulled Buffy so close that no light shone between their bodies.  He ran his hand down her back, causing her to break out in goosebumps.  Buffy twined her fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.  Shivers raced down his spine. 

          Slowly, Spike spun Buffy around.  Her back was snug against his chest, feeling every hard plane.  Her hand remained up in his hair, trapping him in her embrace.  Together, they moved to the song, grinding and caressing one another. 

          Buffy's body was on fire.  Her panties were dangerously wet and her breath was coming out in little pants.  Who knew the jerk could dance so good?

          Spike was also having a difficult time.  Certain parts of his anatomy were refusing to "stay down" and the last thing Spike wanted to do was spook the goddess currently pressed against him.  Her scent intoxicated him, flowery with a hint of vanilla and musk.  Spike didn't know what was going on; he just wanted to prolong this sweet torment as long as he could. 

          The song ended.  Buffy reluctantly pulled away from Spike.  A ghost of a smile passed over her face.  What do you say to the guy you practically humped on the dance floor she asked herself.  Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. 

          Spike smiled, feeling the very same nervousness.  Just then, a fight broke out and Buffy and Spike were pushed apart by the crowd.  People were screaming and vying for better viewing positions.  Buffy tried to keep Spike in sight, but she was pushed back and Spike disappeared. 

          A hand grabbed her arm.  Buffy jumped three feet into the air and spun around to see Willow and her new beau looking at her with silly grins. 

          "Ready to go?" Willow asked.

          Buffy shook her head.  "Where's Anya?"

          Willow pointed to the door.  Buffy sighed and nodded.  I guess Spike will have to wait for another night, she said to herself. 

          After the bouncers broke up the fight and restored order, Spike searched desperately for the blonde beauty, but she was gone.  And he didn't even know her name. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I bet you thought I was giving up on this story. Not true, just needed to find time from school. Anyway, here you go, thank you to those who actually reviewed. Standard disclaimer applies.

Chapter 4

Buffy woke up the next morning with a groan. "Somebody, please stop the ride. I wanna get off."

After returning from the Bronze, the roomies decided to play some drinking games, just to prolong the evening. Quarters turned into asshole which led to horse races and then anchorman. At the end of it all, Buffy was well and truly shitfaced. In fact, she didn't even remember the latter part of the evening.

Buffy stumbled downstairs and was immediately greeted with the aroma of coffee. "I swear to God that I will kiss the feet of whoever made coffee."

Willow laughed, and then winced. "Ow. Stop making me laugh, it aggravates the clog dancers in my head and they speed up."

Buffy smiled at Willow and grabbed a mug from the drying rack. She filled it to the brim with coffee and took a big sip. "Oh, hot!"

Anya breezed into the kitchen. Willow was laughing but trying not to and Buffy was wincing and waving her hands around her face. "Nice to see you girls are feeling okay."

Buffy wanted to roll her eyes, but was afraid it would hurt too much. "Why are you in such good mood?"

Anya shrugged. "I, unlike you two, drank several glasses of water throughout the night as well as aspirin before bed. And I am better at drinking games, so I didn't imbibe as much alcohol as you did. And even though I went to bed alone, I still have several pleasant sex dreams. Some even involved celebrities."

"I hate you," Buffy muttered.

Anya cocked an eyebrow. "Since I know you are just lashing out due to your own pain, I will let that slide. Are we still shopping today?"

Buffy nodded, then groaned and grabbed her head. "Yeah, shopping good. Shower now."

Cave-Buffy headed to the downstairs bathroom. Willow headed upstairs leaving Anya contemplating the value of a bagel or toast. Buffy reappeared ten minutes later in jeans, a tank top, flip-flops and dark sunglasses.

Anya looked at Buffy up and down. "Nice outfit. Trying to imagine life as a fashion victim?"

Buffy flipped Anya the bird and Anya laughed. "And people say you're not a lady. Hard to imagine why."

Willow wandered down dressed in attire similar to Buffy. "Copycat," she said to Buffy.

Buffy shook her head and winced. "Don't make me smack you. And I'm not it for driving either."

Anya breezed by the hung-over girls, keys in hand. "Like I want to risk my life with either of you behind the wheel. You're both scary on a good day. I'm driving."

"Whatever, Anya. Let's go," Willow said, grabbing her purse. They headed out the door and toward the mall.

* * *

Spike awoke in about the same condition as Buffy. His head ached and it felt like a furry animal had shit then died in his mouth. The event of the previous night spun in his head and almost gave him motion sickness. 

Luckily enough, Spike made it to the toilet before the projectile dynamics began. He splashed some water on his face and brushed his teeth. He told Xander last night that he would go to the mall with him today, something about Xander needing new shirts.

Spike cursed Xander under his breath, blaming him for his previous intoxication. Although Spike knew it really wasn't Xander's fault, it felt nice to lay the blame on somebody.

After 20 or 30 aspirin, Spike's head didn't feel like was about to explode. The light didn't make him feel nauseated and he could basically stand up straight without whimpering too much.

The cheerful honking of Xander's horn had Spike contemplating the California penal code sections pertaining to murder in the first degree. Swearing under his breath, he quickly scribbled a note and quietly let himself out.

Xander's goofy face and grin did nothing to assuage Spike's temper.

"What's got you in such a bleedin' good mood?" Spike grumbled as he stepped into Xander's ancient car.

Xander grinned and a blush stained his face. "Nada. Just, you know, met a girl."

Spike's curiosity was piqued. "Oh yeah? When?"

Xander shrugged. "Last night. Her name's Anya. She goes to school here. Thinks I have 'orgasm potential' and stuff."

Spike coughed and choked. "What?"

Xander's grin widened. "Yeah. That was the first thing she said to me."

Spike laughed. "Quite an up front bird, isn't she?"

Xander nodded. "Refreshing is the word I think."

Spike couldn't disagree with that. The two friends rode in silence until they reached the illustrious Sunnydale Mall. Two whole floors of shopping nirvana.

The first stop the boys made was at Starbucks. Spike got a venti blended vanilla mocha. Xander snickered at Spike's choice and ordered plain coffee. They carried their drinks out to the small tables and sat down.

Spike sipped his drink. "Ahh. Much better." The pounding in his head began to slow and he could open his eyes a little wider.

People streamed around the mall. Women with baby strollers and husbands in tow, single women, single men and clusters of teenagers. Old, young, small and large, people milled from store to store and the cash register chime was palpable even out in the food court.

It was pure happenstance that Spike managed to catch sight of her blonde hair. That or a miracle. Either way, Spike gave thanks as he watched the pretty blonde and her friends from the Bronze walk toward Victoria's Secret.

"Think I may need to do some shopping for frillies," Spike said to Xander.

"Huh?" came Xander's response.

Spike inclined his head toward the store where the girls were holding up various bras and panties to their bodies and giggling.

Xander's eyes widened. "Yeah, frillies. Good call."

The boys gathered up their drinks and headed toward the store.

* * *

Buffy held up a pale blue silk bra and panty set. "What do you guys think of this?" 

Willow nodded. "Looks good Buff. Complements your skin."

Anya eyed the underwear critically. "It's okay, but you can't rush into these things. Underwear is a key component of a seduction outfit. Good underwear means good orgasms. That's not scientifically proven, just my observation."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Thanks Anya. I'll take that into consideration."

Anya beamed. "Glad to help."

After a few more selections, the girls headed back to the dressing room. Buffy and Anya crammed into one and Willow, who was too modest for the garments, chose to wait outside.

Many minutes and several heated debates later, Buffy decided on a burgundy silk and black lace underwear set and Anya scored two corsets, some garter belts and stockings.

The three girls chatted as they made their way to the counter. "I'm still not sure about this," Buffy said. "I still kinda like the blue."

"Oh I don't know luv, red is my favorite color," a deep British voice purred in her ear.

Shivers raced down Buffy's spine. She spun around and was faced with an amazing pair of cerulean eyes and one of the best bodies she'd seen since, well, since the Bronze.

"Your eyes are blue," she said dazedly.

Spike smiled. "And yours are beautiful, kitten."

It could have been the accent. Or it could have been his eyes or his hard body. Hell, it could have been the scar that Buffy just wanted to stroke with her thumb. In any case, hearing the word kitten from his mouth was an instant aphrodisiac for Buffy. Her breathing increased her nipples tightened and other parts of her body responded accordingly.

Anya coughed pointedly and the moment was broken. Buffy stepped back, stuttering.

"Um, er. So, yeah. 'M just gonna go and pay and stuff," Buffy muttered.

Buffy trotted up to the counter and Spike followed behind her.

"So, pet, do you have a name or shall I just continue making them up?"

A blush stole over Buffy's cheeks. "Um, yeah. Buffy. Well, Elizabeth actually, but all my friends call me Buffy."

Spike leaned close to Buffy's ear. "Is that what we are Buffy? Friends?"

His breath tickled the small hairs of her ears and sent chills all over her body. She placed her garments up on the counter and gave a plastic smile to the woman behind the counter.

Turning to face Spike again, she felt her tummy tighten and butterflies bloom. "You can never have too many friends, right?"

Spike inclined his head, conceding to her. "That's true, luv."

"That'll be $48.50," came a voice behind Buffy.

Buffy spun around and handed the woman her Visa.

Spike walked back toward Xander who was talking animatedly with Willow and Anya.

"And how are you ladies? Not bored to tears yet hopefully?" he asked jokingly.

Xander smacked Spike and Willow and Anya tittered. "So, do you ladies have any big plans today?" Spike asked.

The girls shook their heads and Spike smiled. "Excellent. What do you say that we catch a movie or something?"

"What's that?" Buffy asked as she joined the group.

"Movie, pet?" Spike asked.

Buffy nodded. "Sure, sounds good."

"Looks like we're heading to the movies," Xander said.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Usual Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 5

"That is so not true!" Buffy exclaimed.

"It bloody is so," Spike said indignantly.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No way."

"Whatever, can we just pick a movie?" Anya asked, annoyed.

Willow had opted out of the movie situation, choosing instead to return the apartment. The remaining four headed to the movie theater where Buffy and Spike proceeded to argue about every movie available to watch. Buffy's movie choices were "too bloody frou-frou" and Spike's were "mindless gore". Xander and Anya had wisely opted out of the argument, waiting for the two bottle blonde's to either pick a movie or kill one another.

Anya, however, was a woman of limited patience. "Will both of you twits just shut up? You're driving me nuts!"

Buffy and Spike stopped mid-argument. "NO!" they both yelled at Anya.

She rolled her eyes and motioned for Xander to follow her. The pair bought tickets at the window and slipped inside before Buffy or Spike noticed their absence.

"Hey, where'd the whelp and the bird go?" he asked looking around the lobby.

"Are you even speaking English? What the hell is a whelp?" Buffy demanded.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Whatever, you stubborn bint. Xander, where did Xander and Anya go?"

Buffy flicked his nose. He yelped and battered her hand away. "Bloody hell woman, what was that for?"

"For calling me a bint, whatever that is. And for driving Xander and Anya away," she replied, annoyed. If he would just stop acting like a jerk, they could already be in a movie.

Spike blew out a breath. True, she was drop-dead gorgeous, but this girl could make his blood boil like nothing else. "Okay, pet. What movie should we watch?"

"Spanglish," was her immediate reply.

Spike shook his head. "Nu-uh. Not watching some weepy chick flick."

"Then what?" Buffy asked through gritted teeth.

"Ocean's 12?" he suggested

Buffy considered for a moment. "Sounds good."

Spike sighed in relief. "Thank the Gods. Let's get tickets."

After tickets and popcorn, no salt no butter per Buffy, and some Goobers for Spike, they headed into the movie theater. Once again, there was a fight. This time, about where to sit.

"In front, pet. That's the best place to sit," Spike said.

Buffy smiled sweetly. "Um, no. The best place is in the back. It's darker and easier to see the movie."

A compromise was struck and the twosome headed to the middle. After a slight kerfluffle over ownership of the armrest, they were prepared to watch the movie.

"He is so hot," Buffy whispered when Brad Pitt came onscreen.

"Shh," Spike said quietly.

Buffy poked his side. He slid a glance over at her. "What's up pet?"

"Don't shush me," she whispered.

"Then don't bloody talk," he replied.

Buffy huffed and turned her attention back to the screen. A few moments later, she was whispering again, this time about George Clooney.

"Buffy, pet. Shut the bloody hell up," Spike whispered loudly. Several people glared at him.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say Bleach-boy."

"Yeah, 'cause you're hair is so natural looking," Spike snarked.

The rest of the movie was spent in silence. This did not mean it was peaceful. Buffy and Spike spent the better part of the movie purposefully driving each other nuts. Buffy would edge Spike's arm off of the armrest and he would move it back on. He would "pretend" to reach for some popcorn and brush her leg.

By the end of the movie, Buffy didn't know if she was more horny or pissed off. Spike seemed to have that effect on her. One minute she wanted to smack him, and then kiss and make it better.

Spike was in about the same quandary. He wanted to screw the girl sideways even as his blood called for murder. It was frustrating to say the least. And it didn't put either one in a very good mood.

"So, luv, up for some ice cream?" Spike asked as they exited the movie theater.

Buffy shook her head. "Nah. I gotta get home. Willow and I were gonna do something tonight."

Spike nodded. "Are you busy, say, this weekend?"

Buffy nodded. "Actually, I am. Seriously. But, hey, next week sometime?"

Spike nodded, remembering his own plans for the weekend. "Yeah, seems that I forgot that I'm busy as well. Call you next week sometime?"

Buffy nodded and they exchanged phone numbers. The little butterflies that left when they were fighting came back with a vengeance when Spike's hand reached up to cup her cheek. His fingers caressed the soft skin of her cheek and brushed across her jaw line, over her lips and down her neck. Ever so slowly, he brought her face closer to his until his lips lightly brushed hers. It was a light kiss, airy and tender.

Ever so slowly, Spike drew back. Buffy's eyes opened to see that his beautiful blue eyes usually clear and bright, were now stormy and dark. His jaw was clenched, making his already prominent cheekbones stand out even further.

Gently, Buffy brushed her hand over his face, much like what he had done to her. Her fingers whispered over his jaw line and it relaxed.

"Call me soon," she whispered.

He smiled. "I will. See you soon, Elizabeth."

* * *

"Tell me everything," Willow squealed as soon as Buffy walked in the door.

"Huh?" Buffy replied.

Willow sighed and gave Buffy her 'don't try that with me' face. "About the movie. Anya came home and hour ago and said that she and Xander ditched you guys at the theater. What happened?"

Buffy smiled and sighed. "We fought and watched a movie. And then, he kissed me."

Willow squealed again. "What kind of kiss? Was it a forehead kiss, or a platonic kiss? Or maybe it was an "I like you but don't want to be to forward" kiss."

Buffy shrugged. "Kinda like a platonic kiss, but with definite "too forward" potential."

Willow eyes lit up. "That's the best kind!"

"How do you figure?" Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged. "Um. Well, I don't really know. I'm not the expert in this area. But, ask me anything about the anthropological significance of African witchcraft. Go on, I dare ya."

Buffy laughed. "I will trust in your superior knowledge and bow to you, the almighty Willow, goddess of that which is book knowledge."

Willow nodded. "You're darn tootin'."

Anya strolled into the living room from the kitchen. "Is the babbling over? I heard Willow-babbling and decided to wait it out."

Buffy laughed and Willow stuck her tongue out at Anya, who promptly stuck her out back. "Now, now children. Behave or nobody gets ice cream."

The three roommates had a weekly ice cream ritual. One night a week, they allowed themselves homemade ice cream sundaes, complete with all the fixin's and real ice cream. The good kind, with lots of calorie and fat. They bitched about work and school, gossiped about people not present and basically just spent the time releasing pressure.

Buffy pulled out the ice cream and Anya got out some bowls. Willow dug out the sprinkles and chocolate syrup.

"Guys, I can't find the whipped cream," she called out, her head slightly muffled by the refrigerator door.

"Oh, it's in my room. You know, props," Anya said. "I can go get it if you want."

Buffy and Willow both shook their heads. "No, no. That's okay."

Anya looked offended. "What? It's not like there's cooties on it."

Buffy shared a look with Willow. "Trust me Anya; it's not cooties we're worried about."

Anya shrugged. "Whatever."

They made their sundaes and talked about the upcoming weekend. Joyce was able to get time off and she was excited about it. She called Buffy three times, wondering about wardrobe and shoes to take. Anya wanted to watch old episodes of Law & Order and CSI in order to prepare. Willow wanted to read Sherlock Holmes as a refresher course. And Buffy just wanted the weekend over so that she could go on her date with Spike.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I receive no profit from the use of these characters. I bow to the almighty Joss Whedon. No infringement rights intended. I just wanna play with Spike.

Chapter 6

"Are you sure we've got everything?" Joyce asked for the fourth time.

Buffy gritted her teeth. "Yes mom. I'm sure. We're only going to be gone for a few days. The world will not end while we're at the Mansion. I promise."

"There is no need to get snippy with me young lady. I just wanted to make sure. I hate when I go places and realize that I've forgotten my toothbrush or toothpaste," Joyce said.

"You know, Joyce has a good point," Anya said. "Maybe we should all double-check out luggage."

Buffy was ready to pull her hair out. "Oh for the love of Pete! We are not checking the luggage again. We're already 30 minutes late and traffic isn't getting any better.Relax people."

Willow laughed. Buffy was such a stress case. It wasn't like she was driving or anything. Joyce was at the wheel, and Buffy was manning the navigator seat. Willow figured that Buffy might be a bit nervous about her upcoming date with Spike. He called earlier that day and the two arranged a dinner date on Tuesday night.

At the moment, the quartet was on the road, driving out of town to the manor where the weekend was held. It was a two hour drive and between her mother and Anya, Buffy was ready to jump out the window.

"I need to use the bathroom," Anya announced.

Buffy whirled around in her seat. "Anya, we just stopped five minutes ago. Why didn't you go then?"

Anya shrugged. "I didn't need to. Besides, it was a nasty gas station bathroom. There might be springboard pubic lice on the toilet seat."

Buffy sighed. "Look, we're almost there. Hold it or I swear I'm gonna wear my bunny jammies all weekend."

"You don't have to bring up bunnies. Why would you do that?" Anya wailed and buried herself in the seat.

"Will you both just knock it off?" Willow asked.

Buffy opened her mouth to say something, but Joyce beat her to it, turning the radio up and drowning out any words that might have been said.

It was a great relief to everyone when the Mansion came into sight. It was three stories, and looked like a mixture betweena southern plantation houseand a gothic dream. There were graceful trellises with roses and ivy growing up the side. There were also fierce looking gargoyles guarding the corners of the house. The upper windows were large bay windows with delicate black iron balconies extending out. Buffy expected a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightening to flash behind the house any minute.

Joyce pulled into a long drive that ended in a circle at the house. A woman in uniform opened the passenger door. "Welcome to Mayhem Manor. The Lord and Lady await your presence."

Buffy looked over at her mom. Joyce shrugged. Buffy giggled and got out of the car. "Thanks. Uh, tell the Lord and Lady we'll be in shortly."

The woman bowed and turned on her heel toward the house. The other occupants of the car exited and stretched. Willow popped her neck and back, and Buffy looked at her, grossed out.

"How can you do that?" she asked.

Willow shrugged. "Natural talent I guess."

They gathered their luggage and headed toward the manor. About halfway there, they were accosted by several uniformed people with grabby hands. Before Buffy could say a word, her luggage was taken from her hands and whisked away.

"What the hell was that?" Anya asked after the uniformed people disappeared.

Buffy shrugged. "But hey, no more carrying our bags. That's kinda cool."

The four women continued up the path to the house. At the door was another uniform, this time in the guise of a doorman. He gave a stiff bow and opened the door. Cool air blew over Buffy as she stepped into the foyer of Mayhem Manor. To her right was what looked to be a ballroom or dining room of some sort. To her left was a large curving staircase. Straight ahead of her was a large tiled hallway.

"Greetings. You must be Miss Summers, the contest winner," said a male voice.

Buffy looked up. Coming down the stairs was one of the most breathtaking men Buffy had ever seen. He wasn't handsome in the classical sense of handsome. He was more…pretty, she decided, that was the word. His hair was jet black and longish, curling over the collar of his pristine white shirt. From a distance Buffy thought he had blue eyes but when he got closer she realized they were more of a grayish color. He had a delicate bone structure in his face, full lips and his arresting eyes. His body wasn't a typical hard body. He was tall and lithe, reminding Buffy of a dancer. His gait was graceful, as if he walked over the floor instead of on it.

Willow elbowed Buffy out of her daze. "Yes, Buffy Summers, that's me. Hi," Buffy said weakly, extending her hand.

"I'm Eamon, Lord of Mayhem Manor. My wife, the Lady Ophelia sends her greetings," Eamon said, smoothly taking Buffy's hand and kissing the back of it.

Buffy blushed a deep shade of red and withdrew her hand. "Um, yeah. This is my mother, Joyce," she said grabbing her mom's hand and pulling her forward. "And over there are Willow and Anya."

Eamon bowed to Joyce. "Enchanted."

Joyce didn't offer her hand. Instead she merely smiled and nodded. "Pleasure."

Eamon clapped his hands and immediately a young woman appeared from the hallway. "Show them their room and prepare them for dinner," he commanded.

The young girl nodded and dropped into a deep curtsey. Eamon sent a final look at Buffy and Joyce before quickly walking away.

"Right this way," the servant said.

Willow looked at Anya who looked at Buffy who looked at Joyce. Joyce shrugged. "I don't know any more than you. I'm just glad that creepy man is gone."

Buffy had to agree. For all his beauty and presence, Eamon bothered her. Nothing too specific, but something about him was…..off. "Well, at least let's go and see what our room looks like," Buffy said.

"Did he say prepare us for dinner," Anya whispered to Willow loudly as the followed the female servant up the stairs. "Does that mean we're gonna get eaten in the un-fun sense of the word?"


	7. Chapter 7

Usual disclaimer…no infringement intended, I make no profit from this story or these characters (which I do not own)

A/N: I'm really trying to get this story moving and I apologize for the lack of updates. First I got a severe case of block then my computer crapped out. I'm going to try and do better, but I'm a graduating double major/working fulltime college student, so finding writing time isn't easy. Thanks for understanding and taking the time to submit a review. I really read them and I appreciate them a lot.

Chapter 7

Buffy absolutely adored their room. It was large and…well, _sumptuous was probably the word_, Buffy thought. The walls were dark oak and the ceilings were high and airy. In the very center of the room was a large crystal chandelier. Tiny rainbows were refracted all over the room. There were two king sized beds against one wall opposite a gigantic fireplace. Above the beds was a large bay window. Ornate sconces with varying sized candles were interspersed on the walls along with large paintings.

Buffy and Willow ran into the room and vaulted onto the beds, squealing like little girls. They jumped up and down until they were breathless with giggles.

"How very mature of you," said Anya dryly.

Willow rolled her eyes. "Whatever Anya. It's fun..you know, fun can be had outside of the bedroom."

Anya's nostrils flared and she opened her mouth. "Okay girls, lets all calm down," said Joyce before Anya had a chance to reply.

Buffy meanwhile had wandered around the room and located the balcony that was perched outside the room. "Guys, look at this," she called out.

The girls ran toward the balcony. Joyce continued to wander around the room, picking things up and looking at the works of art hanging on the wall. Having a lifelong love affair with the art world and owning an art gallery made Joyce quite the expert, and she was shocked to discover that many of the paintings were real, not copies.

"Who hangs priceless works of art on the wall of a motel?" she murmured to herself.

The trio of girls had moved from the balcony to the bathroom when Joyce caught up with them. The large Jacuzzi tub was Anya's focus while Buffy was admiring the vanity mirror.

Willow flitted around, picking up the little bottles of lotion and shampoos. "This place is so cool," she said.

"Yes. Kudos to your speedy phone fingers Buffy," Anya said.

Buffy grinned. "That's me, queen of the phone."

Joyce was forced to agree. "And we have the phone bills to prove it."

"Well, should we start getting ready?" Willow asked.

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy said.

"Dibs on the tub first," Anya yelled.

"Damn Da, this place is really something," Spike saw when the three men pulled up to the Mansion.

"Yeah Giles, you really outdid yourself," Xander chimed in.

"Erm, yes. Well, I did do some through research before making the reservation. I must say, I'm rather pleased with the results," Giles said.

"Leave it to you to take the fun out of vacation," Spike said.

"I hardly think being prepared qualifies me as boring," Giles said, a bit miffed at Spike's comment.

"I didn't mean it like that," Spike said. "I just meant that you are the only person I know who actually researches where he's going."

Giles couldn't disagree there so he remained silent. He put the car into park and the trio stepped outside.

Spike sighed and tried to realign his spine. Xander followed Spike's lead. He stepped from the car and tried to push his body back into place. It was no easy task. Two hours of sitting on his wallet had almost permanently damaged his butt. It was a great relief to finally stand upright.

Much like the ladies, the men were accosted by the staff and relieved of their luggage as soon as they stepped foot onto the Mansion soil. And Eamon was also on hand to greet the men.

Spike's reaction to Eamon was far less favorable than Buffy's. "Poofter," he muttered under his breath when Eamon had given his instructions to the servants and taken his leave.

Rupert halfheartedly reached over and slapped Spike on the head. "Manners," he whispered. Truthfully, Rupert agreed with Spike. Something about Eamon raised his hackles.

A small redheaded girl stepped forward with a flirtatious smile on her face. "Follow me," she said.

Spike and Xander looked at each other and grinned. "Maybe this place won't be so bad after all," Spike said. This earned him another light smack from his father.

"People are going to think that I raised you in a barn if you persist in such rude behavior," Giles said.

Spike's reply was a grin and a shrug.

Xander began laughing and tried to cover it up with a cough. Giles was not amused and he threw Xander a dirty look. "You are supposed to be the good influence here."

Before Xander could answer, the maid reached their room and threw the doors open. Xander and Spike ran into the room and, in a perfect mimic of Willow and Buffy, began to jump up and down on the two king-sized beds

Giles smiled at their antics and tipped the maid. She curtsied and left before her amusement at the boys showed through. _Sometimes_, she thought, _this job has its perks._

After the beds were thoroughly destroyed, Spike and Xander flopped down and began to wrestle.

"Boys," Giles called out. "Not now. We need to get dressed for dinner. I do not wish to be late."

"Good call G-man," Xander said. "Where's our stuff?"

"Xander, if you call me that again, I will be forced to throw you out the window. Now if you heathens had paid any attention, you would see that the luggage is here next to the bathroom," Giles said.

Spike jumped up. "I get the shower first."

"Over my dead body," Xander replied and the two began to wrestle again. Giles sighed at their behavior and stepped into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him. By the time the boys realized they'd been had, he was cheerfully using up all the hot water.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I neither own nor make profit from these characters.

Chapter 8

If the bedrooms were sumptuous, then the dinning room was magnificent. The walls were mirrored and 3 huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Each was filled with candles, giving the room a soft glow. The table was long and elegant, glass covering a black wrought iron frame. The chairs were high-backed and brocade. In fact, when Buffy sat down, Willow couldn't even see the top of her blonde hair.

"Hey shorty, where'd you go?" Willow asked.

Buffy stood up quickly. "Har har Wills. When'd you become a comedienne?"

Willow shrugged. "It's a talent. Like alphabetizing my socks by color. Just one of those things."

"You alphabetize your socks by color?" Anya butted in. "Wow, you are a nerd."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Duh."

Once again, Joyce the peacemaker jumped in. "Now girls that's enough. Let's sit and get ready to eat. Lord knows it took us long enough to get here," she added under her breath.

Between Buffy's curling iron, Anya's straight iron and Willow's blow-dryer, the girls had managed to blow a fuse to the room. After the maintenance crew had to replace it for the third time, Joyce put an end to the bathroom drama. Then the clothing and makeup rituals began. Buffy complained that she had nothing to wear, Willow didn't like anything she brought and Anya swore that one of her suitcases was missing. By the time Joyce forced the girls to leave the room Buffy was wearing Anya's jean skirt and Willow's peasant top, Willow was dressed in Buffy's dress and Anya had Buffy's shirt and her own halter top. She'd tried to get away with a sheer top and bra combo, but Joyce nixed that.

When they finally made it to the dinning room, Joyce was ready for a big alcoholic drink and some time alone. She wanted to explore the mansion some more and see if there were anymore original works of art hanging on the walls. She was hoping that the game would start and the girls could distract themselves with that.

"Spike, come on man! You're gonna make us late. Besides, you can't possibly fit anymore gel on that stupid hair of yours," Xander yelled, pounding on the bathroom door.

"Just because you have ugly hair doesn't mean I have to," came the muffled reply from behind the door.

Xander threw his hands up. "Fine, I give up. Your dad and I are leaving. Have fun in the bathroom. Be careful, you don't wanna go blind."

Giles choked on the water he was drinking. "Xander, really. Do you need to yell that out?"

"Relax G-man. It's not like people are listening at the door," Xander replied.

Rupert pinched the bridge of his nose. "Xander, I have asked you again and again not to call me that."

Xander shrugged. "Force of habit?"

Spike finally managed to find his way out of the bathroom. "I thought you were leaving me behind?"

He punched Xander in the shoulder. Xander retaliated in kind and soon the two boys were heading toward a full-fledged punching match.

"Children, can we go now?" Rupert broke it with a resigned voice.

The boys stopped. Xander straightened his shirt and Spike fixed his hair. "We're ready," they said.

"Right then. Off we go," Giles said.

The trio made their way to the dinning room. Xander and Spike were duly impressed by the elaborate décor. Giles was as well, to a smaller extent. To him, the entire place was a clever façade, and Rupert didn't know if he wanted to see under it.

"Good evening all," Eamon said striding into the room. "This is the perfunctory get-to-know-you dinner. We hope that everybody takes the opportunity to talk and network with one another. Dinner will begin shortly, and then the game will start."

There was a murmur of agreement among the voices and Eamon left the room.

"Well, now what?" Willow asked.

"I dunno, guess we go talk to people," Buffy said. She turned to talk to Anya but Anya was nowhere in sight. "Hey, where'd Anya go?"

Willow nodded her head to the left. "Over there. As soon as Eamon said talk she was out of her chair and stalking down that guy with reddish hair. And, from the looks of it, he's not biting."

Not only was Anya's conquest not biting, he was looking extremely uncomfortable and a little scared. Buffy chuckled at his face. Anya was oblivious, chattering animatedly about whatever struck her fancy.

"I suppose one of us should go save him," Willow said in an offhand manner.

Buffy raised her eyebrow. This was un-Willow-like behavior. Usually Willow was the last person to suggest talking to someone of the opposite sex. She preferred to hide in the back, under layers and layers of bulky but brightly colored clothing.

"Sounds like a plan Wills. Go for it," Buffy said.

Willow turned several shades of red but bravely walked toward Anya and the frightened boy. Several minutes and hand gesticulations later, Anya walked away leaving Willow and the guy behind.

"Of all the nerve. Why, that little red-headed tramp. There I was, telling this perfectly nice boy name Oz all about my future capital gains when she comes over and interrupts me! Not only that, but then he starts to listen to her! Her and not me!" Anya ranted.

Buffy smiled. "Calm down Anya. Were you guys really hitting it off anyway? Didn't look like it from here."

Anya shrugged her shoulder jerkily. "That's not important."

Buffy sighed. "Whatever. I'm gonna go talk to people. You can stay and pout here or come with me."

Anya nodded. "Fine. But don't expect me to be your wingman."

Spike was trying to enjoy himself but every time he tried to speak to a lady, a certain pair of green eyes kept popping into his mind. It was most distracting and his game was suffering because of it.

"Stupid bloody bint. Hundreds of miles away and she's still driving me nuts," he muttered under his breath.

"What's that?" Xander asked distractedly. He was gazing around the room, eager to get the game going.

"Nothin' whelp. Jus' talking to myself."

"Isn't that a sign of mental imbalance?"

"Ha ha. Aren't you the funny guy?" Spike growled.

Xander shrugged. "All my life. Can we go sit now?"

Spike shook his head. "Not yet, I wanna meet everybody."

Xander sighed. "Well, I'm gonna go sit."

Spike nodded. "Be there in a minute. 'M sure I can find some young thing that won't be able to resist my charms."

"Keep dreaming," Xander called out as he made his way back.

"Bloody wanker," Spike muttered.

A few more passes in the room (_That Drusilla chick is kinda hot_) and Spike was ready to call it good. He set down his flue of champagne and headed back to his chair. Halfway there, something hit his back. Something wet. Spike reached his hand around, felt the liquid begin to soak into his shirt and was about to rip somebody a new hole when he heard the voice.

"I'm so sorry. Can I get you something?" she said.

Spike turned around. "Buffy?"

Buffy was cursing her choice of shoes. Not only did the heels get caught in every damn fiber in the carpet, but she wasn't too good at the whole balancing thing and she kept falling into people. Anya had long ago ditched her, her excuse being that Buffy was "holding her back".

Buffy decided to sit back down when she tripped big time. Her champagne went flying and Buffy found herself with an extremely close view of the carpet. Mortified beyond belief, Buffy stuttered out an apology while several people eyed her predicament with amusement. Then Buffy heard the voice.

"Buffy?" asked an eerily familiar voice.

"Spike?" she said standing upright.

His eyebrow lifted and his lips quirked into a small smile. "Should've known it was you. Every time I see you, you throw something on me."

"That's not true," Buffy cried. "It was an accident. What are you doing here anyway?"

Spike shrugged. "My Da's great idea. Thought we needed to spend more time together. How 'bout you? What are you doing here?"

"I won a radio contest," Buffy replied. "A complete vacation."

"Well Princess, I must say, it'll be nice to see you all weekend. But you can't get mad at me when I solve the game first," Spike said and grinned.

Buffy raised a brow. "It'll be hard to solve something I already know the answer to."

"It that a challenge, pet?" Spike asked in a silky voice. He brought his hand to Buffy's face and gently traced his fingers over her cheek and outlined the contours of her lips.

"It's whatever you want it to be," Buffy said then blushed at her own choice of words. Spike's touch was more than distracting. It was so light she barely felt the tips of his fingers as they moved over her skin. The slight contact raised goosebumps on her arms and sent shivers of heat down her spine toward her womanly core. Sure, Buffy had lovers before but they couldn't manage with their entire bodies what Spike accomplished with just his fingertips.

"Spike, there you are," Giles called out, his voice breaking the moment between the young couple. "Come back, we're about to begin."

Spike grimaced and blushed slightly. "My Da. He's such a bloody pain sometimes."

Buffy nodded. "Trust me, I understand completely. My mom is the queen of nosiness."

The two shared a grin before Spike leaned in toward Buffy. "Meet me after dinner," he said, brushing a kiss over her brow.

Buffy nodded. "I'll be at the bottom of the staircase."

Spike nodded and the two parted ways.

Let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

Usual disclaimers apply. I'm doing something slightly different this time because refuses to post my lines that break story perspective up. Let me know if it works/doesn't work, etc. Also, this was a bit rushed, so let me know if there are any glaring mistakes that need to be corrected. Thanks!

Chapter 9

Dinner was good. Not great, like Buffy expected given the rest of the manor, but just good. _Guess they ran out of money before they hired a kitchen staff_, Buffy thought cattily. Eamon sat at the head of the table like a king holding court. His wife, the mysterious Lady Ophelia had yet to make an appearance.

"She's probably just a figment of the fruity guy's imagination," Buffy said, a little louder than she intended.

"What's that?" Joyce asked.

"Nothing," Buffy said irritably. She was ready for dinner to be over about twenty minutes ago. Now it just seemed to drag on forever, people still talking and drinking. In fact, Joyce seemed to be slightly snookered herself. She was cheerfully talking about art with anybody who dared listen.

"Are we done yet?" Buffy whined to nobody in particular.

Willow shot Buffy a sympathetic look. She'd seen Spike and his friend earlier, mingling on the floor. Of course, she was with Oz at the time, so everything else seemed fuzzy. _Ahh, Oz. He's so cute!_ Her inner voice screamed. _And he's in a band, granted it's a weird sounding punk band, but a band. I'm like a band-aid! _She sighed.

Buffy gave Willow a strange look. _She's sighing again. What's up with that? Is she bored like me? I'm bored. Stiff as a board. Yup, I'm a bored. Stiff, hey that kinda, sounds like Spike. Ohh, stiff Spike. Wait, getting a little off-track there. Look, mirrors. Pretty. Like Spike. Damn, no thinking about him. Until later, when much thinking will be done. Or, not a lot of the thinking thinking, more of the feeling thinking. I hope. Wait a minute…is that girl hitting on Spike? _

Buffy's thought train was derailed when she caught the reflection of a willowy-looking brunette draping her arms around Spike's shoulders. _That little skank!_

Buffy stood up and straightened herself to full form. Which was about 5'5 including the heels. Not that formidable, but then Buffy knew that her slight appearance was her greatest weapon. Nobody suspected that she was a black-belt who could kick ass without breaking a sweat. That particular skill had come in handy on several occasions.

Buffy took a deep breath and marched down to where Spike and Xander were sitting. She reached past the gothic ho and tapped Spike on the shoulder. "Hey. Whatcha doin'?"

Spike did a perfect water spit-take onto Xander's face. "'Ello pet. Enjoying yourself?" He tried to untangle himself from the girl's arms without much success.

"Well, I _was_," Buffy said. "But it looks like you're having more fun. Care to introduce me?"

"Uh. Well, you see pet, uh.." Spike trailed off looking to Xander for help. Xander just smiled and shrugged. _You're on your own_, he mouthed.

Meanwhile Buffy had moved past Spike and was currently introducing herself. "Hi. I don't think we met earlier. I'm Buffy." She stuck her hand out.

"Drusilla," came the reply. She cast a withering look at Buffy's hand and sniffed. Slowly Buffy withdrew it.

"Uh, well, nice to meet you," Buffy said.

Drusilla just nodded. She reached down and whispered something in Spike's ear and Buffy swore she saw her tongue flick out. Having seen enough, Buffy abruptly spun around and walked away.

_Stupid fucking boys, _she thought. _All the same. I don't know why I even bothered. Why didn't I learn from Angel? Or Riley? Does the name poopy Parker ring a bell? Stupid Buffy, stupid, stupid, stupid. _On her third stupid, Buffy tripped and fell. She heard snickers all around her. That, combined with Spike's behavior made tears spring to her eyes. _I'm outta here. _

Buffy stood up and ran toward the exit. Out of her periphery she saw a flash of white, but she didn't stop. She ran up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her. She threw herself down on her bed, furiously blinking back tears. No way was she going to give in to them. _He's not worth it anyway. _

After a few moments, Buffy composed herself. Standing tall as possible since she traded her heels in for comfy strappy sandals, Buffy made her way back down to the dinning room. _Spike thinks he's so fucking great? Not even. I'll show him. _

………………………………………………………………………………………..

Spike sighed and made his way back the staircase. He'd tried to catch Buffy when she ran away but, damn, she was fast. He called out her name, but she didn't even stop. Not that he blamed her; he'd acted like a right git.

"Stupid bugger," he muttered to himself. Inside the dinning room, Eamon was giving the instructions of how to play the game. Spike thought about trying to go after Buffy but he didn't know what room she was in. Hell, he didn't even know what floor she was on. _But,_ he thought to himself, _she had to come with someone right? Like the birds from the club and the mall perhaps?_ _Maybe Xander has a use after all. _

Plan in mind, Spike strode back into the dinning room. A few minutes later, Buffy walked in behind him. Spike gave thanks to whatever God had listened to his prayers and walked over to her.

"Pet, about earlier…" he started. Buffy didn't give him the chance to finish. She immediately moved away from him. Spike followed her and again tried to apologize for his behavior and again, Buffy deliberately walked away.

"This is getting ridiculous," he muttered.

The woman standing next to him gave him a dirty look. "Shh."

Spike mouthed sorry and then flipped her the bird when she looked away. Unfortunately she was looking into the mirror and caught Spike in the act. The woman promptly walked up to Spike and dumped the entire contents of her glass onto his head.

Several people in the room turned to watch the spectacle and began to snicker at Spike's predicament. Among them were Buffy and Xander. Spike blushed bright red and shuffled out of the room.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Eamon cleared his throat. "If we're quite finished here, I'll bid everyone a good night. Remember, from this point forward, trust no one." Eamon turned and strode out of the room.

"Well, that was just weird," Buffy muttered. She found Willow and Anya and quickly caught up on the rules. They were simple: someone would "die" and then clues would be hidden around the manor. The guests were responsible for finding the clues and putting together who killed the victim and why. The entire staff was suspects and could leave false clues for the guests as well. On Sunday, the guest who successfully named the culprit and motive won the prize money of 1,000.

"So, we should all split up and look for clues," Willow said excitedly. She was practically bouncing up and down.

"Yes, I'm all for splitting up," Anya said, eyeballing Xander.

Buffy sighed. "Okay, we'll meet in the room tonight and go over everything we found, okay?"

"Okay," Willow and Anya chirped, walking away. Oz sidled up next to Willow and they left the dinning room together. Anya, meanwhile, cornered Xander and they were quietly talking by the mirrors. Even Joyce had struck up a conversation with a tweed covered Giles.

Buffy, feeling noticeably left out, left the dinning room to explore the manor. She purposefully avoided Spike and indeed found herself in the ballroom. A large grand piano sat on a riser in a far corner and an elaborate bar was opposite it. Table with chairs dotted the enormous room. Again, one wall was covered in mirrors.

"I'm beginning to see a theme here," Buffy muttered to herself.

She walked over and sat on the piano bench. Soft classical music began to play. Buffy started, and then realized that the piano was on a timer. The keys moved by themselves, and a ghostly waltz filled the room. The haunting strains reminded Buffy of tears.

Buffy closed her eyes and began to sway to the music. She opened her eyes and made sure nobody was in the room. Then, she stood up and began to dance. In her minds eye there was a whole host of people in the room. Dressed in corsets, hoop skirts and ruffled shirts, they dipped and twirled around the room in time to the beautiful music. And her partner, no matter how had she tried to deny it, had bleach blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

Buffy was so caught up with her fantasy partner that she didn't realize she had company until arms encircled her body. Her eyes snapped open and she instinctually went into combat mode. She grabbed the offending arm and twisted it around, taking the person attached to it to the floor. Her foot crashed down onto the intruder's back.

"Oi! Pet, it's me, Spike!" Spike yelled from his position on the floor. He'd been impressed by her dancing and now was positively turned on her by her fighting.

Her breath slowed and Buffy relinquished Spike's arm. "Sorry. Habit."

Spike stood up and rolled his shoulder. "That's quite a habit. How long have you been studying?"

Buffy shrugged, annoyed that her dancing fantasy was interrupted and that Spike caught her without her defenses. "Awhile. What do you want?"

Spike lifted a shoulder. "Wanted to talk. Saw you duck in here, thought I could catch you and apologize for my atrocious behavior. I'm really sorry Buffy."

His eyes begged for her to believe him, and Buffy felt herself melt. After all, life's too short. She smiled. "'S okay. I'm over it. Found any clues yet?"

Spike shook his head. "Too busy changing my shirt."

Buffy laughed. "You got what you deserved."

Spike inclined his head. "I know. Not enough connections between my brain and my body. It's been a problem for years."

Buffy smiled. "I can see that." Silence lapsed between them.

Spike finally broke the silence and offered a hand. "Want to finish that dance?"

Buffy's smile widened as she put her hand in his. They walked to the piano and selected another song. Taking the classical dancer pose, the two began to move.

As they danced, Spike kept and eye on the mirror. It was erotic and innocent all at once. They moved so well together it felt like they were one half of the same whole. Comfortable as a couple married for 50 years, yet as nervous as two virgins on a first date. He led and she anticipated perfectly.

At the end of the waltz, Spike finished with a dip. As he slowly brought Buffy back up, he gave into temptation and gently kissed her lips.

Another song began, this one a frantic tempo. As the song progressed, the kiss deepened. The swells and beats throbbed through the room and vibratedthrough in Buffy's body. Buffy's focus narrowed from the music to Spike's lips. The soft feel of them moving on her own, the movement of his tongue, in and out, in and out of her mouth. The arrogance of his thrusts, the feeling of his fingers tightening on her own. Her breath gone, Buffy continued to kiss Spike, adding her teeth into the mix. She nipped at his lips, and then soothed them with her own. She tangled her tongue with his, then shyly hid it in the recess of her mouth, only to bring it out and battle against his when he penetrated her mouth's surface.

Finally, the two broke apart. Buffy's face was flushed and Spike's chest was heaving with exertion. Not from the simple dance, but from the inner battle raging in his body. The need rose like a beast without control. The need to possess her body, the need to feel skin against skin. To hear her moan and cry out, to whimper at his touch and scream out her release. _It would be so good. _Spike thought. _We would be so good together. _

Buffy's thoughts were running directly parallel to Spike's. She wanted to see him at the moment of surrender, right before he fell off the precipice of pleasure. To watch as his body trembled in respite and his chest panted in exhaustion. _It would be so good_, she thought.

But neither of them made the first move. Although the electricity sizzled and the temperature soared, both regained composure. Spike planted a kiss on Buffy's nose, ignoring the tightening of his pants. Buffy giggled and kissed Spike's cheek, not paying any attention to the heat at the apex of her thighs.

"Want to go find some clues?" she asked.

"Sounds like a plan," Spike replied. They left the ballroom hand-in-hand, both supremely pleased when the other didn't pull away.


End file.
